


Another End, Another Start

by nanisorero (miriam_lee)



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gen, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Canon, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriam_lee/pseuds/nanisorero
Summary: If bonds can mend the world, failing to form them can sure break a man.A mix of official Adachi-trivia and personal headcanons regarding his failed attempts to connect with the others through the pre-canon years (17 y.o. - 26 y.o.). Beware of long dialogues about relationship stuff b/c that's just what this whole thing consists of, literally.





	Another End, Another Start

**17**

He knew it was just a stupid rumor, but at that moment, he didn’t feel he was any less stupid himself.

The playground was deserted and folded in the haze of dusk, so there was no need to be self-conscious while treading through it. Although feeling like he couldn’t care less about anything, Adachi wasn’t sure he was capable of being self-conscious at all.

When he neared the rumored playhouse, he swept over it in a phlegmatic manner, then sighed, dropped his school bag on the ground and crouched down to get inside. The small wooden structure was spacious enough to house about 4 kids, so for one high-school student it had to be more than just fine.

If it had been empty, that is.

Already after he got inside, Adachi realized there was someone else in the corner. Small enough to be around 6, they were sitting with their legs drawn to the chest, chin resting on the knees.

For a second, he considered leaving but that meant having to come here on the next day, after cram school. Not only it would’ve been too late in the evening, he also had barely any idea how to hold out for a whole one more day.

With another sigh, Adachi decided to stay and occupied the other side of the playhouse. He sat down in the same position as the kid on the opposite side, adjusted his glasses and closed his eyes.

A few minutes passed in silence.

“..You had it broken too, right?”

The quiet voice was clearly of a boy, which made it both more and less awkward. According to the rumor, girls were the most frequent guests here. Which wasn’t exactly strange: not only the place itself looked weird but the reason to come was pathetic enough to repel anyone who treasured their pride if even a little.

For the past two weeks, Adachi had been wondering if pride was the kind of strength that helped others overcome pain and wished he could have had more of it. Because his was obviously not coping.

“I guess, since I’m here,” he answered unenthusiastically.

He expected the next phrase to be something about his age and how a high-school student was supposed to be able to deal with his emotions on his own. But the boy just sighed in reply.

“Sorry.”

Surprised, Adachi blinked and was silent for a few moments.

“Well, uh, it’s not like it’s you fault, so..” he ruffled his hair, feeling uncomfortable, and decided to change the topic. “You too then, huh?”

The boy nodded and turned his head to his left.

“..Yeah. My friends left me out.”

Adachi’s eyebrows flew up.

“Huh? I thought this was supposed to be a ‘healing place for the heartbroken’ or something.”

“Yeah,” the boy sounded confused. “It is.”

“But you’ve said ‘friends’.”

“Can’t.. friends break your heart?”

For a while, Adachi was silent, pondering over what he just heard.

“..Well, probably they can,” he answered with his brow slightly furrowed and then shrugged. “I guess I just can’t tell ‘cause I don’t remember ever having someone like that.”

The phrase sounded more pathetic than he hoped it would.

“You never had friends?” the notes of pity in the boy’s voice were obvious.

His lips screwed, Adachi waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s not like friends can help you get into a good university or find a prestigious job. If all you do is hang out with ‘friends’ as a kid, you’re already a loser as an adult. I don’t wanna be one.”

Adachi wasn’t sure why he was explaining himself to some elementary school kid and the feeling started to tick him off.

“I don’t know much about the adult stuff,” the boy replied uncertainly after a short while, “I just know that after that talk we had I can’t study at all,” he sighed and buried his chin in his knees again. “I’m just constantly thinking back to what they said. And I can’t focus on anything.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Adachi shrugged. “They’re dragging you down. I bet they don’t even think about it anymore and are enjoying their daily lives, but here you are, suffering because of them and probably already ruining your grades. You think it’s fair?”

Slowly, the boy shook his head.

“No. But I don’t know how to stop thinking about it. That’s why I’ve come here. Haven’t you, too?”

Adachi stumbled over his own thoughts, realizing that he indeed was in the exact same situation and what he just said might have as well been applied to him.

“Well.. uh.. yeah,” he admitted unwillingly.

“You.. had a fight with someone?”

Adachi didn’t reply for a while but then finally exhaled.

“I was dumped by a girl.”

He immediately let his gaze wander to the right. His eyes were long accustomed to the darkness of the playhouse and he knew that just like he couldn’t see more than just the boy’s silhouette, the kid couldn’t see much either. Yet, the reflex to hide his eyes while talking about something personal was stronger.

“..Wasn’t she your ‘friend’?” the boy sounded confused again.

The question relieved the tension somehow and Adachi couldn’t stifle a laugh.

“Well, it’s a bit weird with girls, you know. They can just confess to you out of the blue, without really knowing you, and even if you two end up a couple it doesn’t mean you can know and understand each other like ‘friends’ are supposed to. Even with time.”

He took off his glasses and, in some unconscious comforting habit, started to clean them with the sleeve of his white shirt.

“But that’s how it probably should be. They say you can’t get through life completely on your own, so you have to have someone at least,” he furrowed his brow. “It’s just that I feel worse when I’m with ‘someone’ like that than when I’m alone.”

“You didn’t like her?” the boy asked and Adachi stopped polishing his glasses. Staring at them through the veil of darkness, with his chin resting on the knees, he was silent for a few moments.

“..I wasn’t in for any liking, when she confessed. She was nice and good-looking, but I politely rejected her, saying that I wasn’t interested in connecting to someone at all,” he chuckled. “But for some reason, she didn’t back down. Kept on showing me her care by willingly helping with the class duties, joining me on the way to cram school, and even bringing me lunch boxes.”

He felt the corners of his own lips turn up a little as he was bringing up the past.

“You can’t just ignore stuff like this, I guess. I got used to it. Got used to having her in my life, warmed up to her and developed some sort of feelings, even though I didn’t want to.”

“Why not?” the boy had long lifted his face from the knees and seemed to be listening intently. “She sounds like a really good person.”

Letting out a laugh, Adachi shrugged.

“Why, huh? Because when you aren’t used to someone, you don’t regret losing them. When you don’t have feelings, you have nothing that can be hurt,” he lowered his eyes to his hands holding the glasses. “And you _will_ end up losing and being hurt in the end, no matter what. No matter how good a person is. That’s just life.”

The boy didn’t say anything, and Adachi threw the back of his head to the wooden wall behind him.

“I think she got bored with me eventually. Maybe she was just giddy, maybe I wasn’t giving back as much as I should have. Maybe we were simply incompatible, just like I believed we were at the very start,” he exhaled. “In any case, her attitude to me started to change at some point and I started to feel weird in her company because of that, so uh.. Yeah.“

He suddenly realized he’d never had a chance to discuss it with anyone, and wondered if it was okay to dump it all on a 6 year-old whom he barely knew.

“You didn’t talk about it to her?”

There was genuine interest and concern in the boy’s voice, and Adachi couldn’t help but smile weakly.

“When I tried to, it was probably already too late, because she didn’t even see the problem,” he shook his head. “Last month, she won the elections for the Student Council President, too. Got really busy, made friends with lots of new people… I tried to show support but I don’t know much about that stuff, mildly speaking, and felt ridiculously out of place in that setting. And since she hardly ever had free time or energy for me anymore, we kinda.. started to drift apart very fast.”

Adachi pursed his lips.

“..Sadder than seeing how you’re steadily losing your place in someone else’s life is seeing how this someone doesn’t put in effort in helping you find this place again. But it’s not like you can ask for this sort of effort, so..”

He sighed and lowered his head.

“A week ago she apologized and said we’d be better off going our separate ways,” he mumbled into his knees. “And now I’m just bitter at myself for breaking my usual routine and abandoning my comfortable recluse. For getting used to her being by my side and for starting to think that such close connections weren’t that bad, that they can be a good, lasting thing…” Adachi closed his eyes, feeling the same grievous pain in his chest he’d felt a week ago. “But it’s all just a lie. Connected or not, everyone’s always on their own. No such thing as loyalty exists and feelings are just meaningless, hurtful crap.”

He was silent for almost half a minute before he lifted his head and forced a shaky laugh.

“Sorry for whining, kid. I’m just having a hard time getting used to the way things had always been for me before. We often used to walk around the city with this girl at this time of the day for almost half a year – and now I feel rundown every time I have a free evening,” Adachi cracked a smile. “It’s cruel how fast you form some sort of a habit and how much time you need to kick it, huh…”

“Yeah, I get it,” the boy agreed. “I still feel weird on weekends, because I used to go out with the others on them. I have stuff I can do, but.. it doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah…” Adachi chuckled. He didn’t even want to start thinking about weekends; he’d been wishing for them to end on each Friday evening for the past few weeks. “So, what’s with these friends of yours?”

The boy hesitated.

“..Now that I’ve heard your story, my sounds a little stupid to me.”

“Hey. You’re left out alone and sitting here at 7 in the evening, trying to mend your feelings. That’s definitely not stupid.”

Adachi heard a quiet laugh in response.

“..Thanks.”

“So, what happened?”

The boy fetched a sigh.

“There’s that one popular card game everyone’s crazy about. My friends have started to play it recently. And I tried to get into it, too, but it just.. kinda...”

“..Doesn’t click with you?”

“Yeah.” The boy dropped another sigh. “I don’t know why. Sometimes I feel like it’s _because_ everyone’s so loudly crazy about it. But.. then there must be something wrong with me. This should spark the interest, not dull it, right?”

“Depends,” Adachi shrugged. “Any TV commercial that seems to be repeating every 10 minutes will get on everyone’s nerves.”

“But these are commercials _,_ they aren’t even supposed to be interesting…” the boy didn’t sound convinced, but continued after a short pause. “..This game was what my friends were always talking about. So I started to feel guilty because I wasn’t involved and couldn’t pay back with the interest they’d shown in the things I’d shared with them.”

Adachi decided to give the kid some time to form his thoughts and didn’t interrupt.

“They soon noticed that I’m not as keen as them and started to be a bit sulky with me. I didn’t know what to do. I felt bad that I wasn’t into that game, but also wondered why it had to be the only thing that could bring us together. Why we couldn’t have other things, too, like before.”

The boy sighed heavily again and held his legs tighter.

“I decided to ask them about it directly. And when they told me they didn’t wanna talk about anything other than the game, I was just lost. It’s like.. they said they were leaving me out because of a game, straight to my face,” he paused for a few moments and then murmured: “..And that hurt a lot.”

Ruffling his hair, Adachi fetched a sigh of his own.

“You didn’t talk to them after that?”

The boy shook his head.

“No. That was a few weeks ago. They don’t call or come by my house anymore. They don’t completely ignore me at school, but.. it kinda hurts to be around them. Everything feels different now...”

“I bet it does,” Adachi stretched his bent legs a little and, still holding his knees, leaned forward. “So, you’re gonna patiently wait till your friends have something to talk to you about again?”

He heard a sigh.

“..I don’t know what to do,” the boy muttered. “I never imagined friends can say that they don’t want your company just like that. I have times when I don’t feel like hanging around with someone too much. But..” he shrugged, “I always thought it was _my_ problem. I’d never tell anyone about it and just work it out on my own. I think that no one has to wait till I’m back in the mood to talk to them.”

“Now apply that last line to yourself, kid,” Adachi chuckled. “Everyone has times like this, for their own good or bad reasons. But you’re right that it’s not the nicest decision to let anyone know or even feel it in any way. Unless you don’t care about that bond, that is.”

He gave a shrug of the shoulders too.

“I’m probably the worst fitting person to say stuff like this, but.. connections are supposed to bring in some stability to your life – that’s why people say it’s important to make them. So, knowing that you can be easily abandoned just like that, for who knows how long, you’ve got the right to question your attachment and trust. I mean, it’s a game now, and can be something else later.”

Adachi paused.

“Since this waiting hurts you so much, why not either try talking to those kids again and see if you can restore your trust in them, or just.. let these bonds go?”

He saw the boy lower his head and heard him exhale again.

“..Yeah, I guess so.”

The voice was still very sad, but less confused than before, and Adachi felt a smile tug on his own lips.

They continued to sit in a surprisingly comfortable silence for more than a minute.

“..Uh, damn, looks like my legs went numb,” Adachi muttered and started to hastily get outside.

Once he finally straightened his back and legs, he sighed with relief, sensing blood in his muscles start to circulate normally again.

“Are you all right?”

He turned his head to the left and in the dim light of a nearby street lamp saw a grey-haired kid, almost half his own height.

“Yeah,” he smiled at the boy and picked up his school bag from the ground. “A 10-minute walk to the train station and I’ll be fine. You okay getting home from here alone?”

“I live nearby,” the kid nodded.

Adachi put the bag on his shoulder, made a step forward and then turned back and glanced at the wooden heart-shaped playhouse for the last time. Somehow, the heaviness in his chest wasn’t that unbearable anymore.

“Looks like the rumor didn’t lie, huh,” he snickered. “I feel a bit better now, after spending some time in there,” he shifted his look to the boy. “I’m not sure it would’ve worked had you not been in it too, though.”

The grey-haired kid smiled sheepishly.

“I’ve been here a few times before. It only worked for me today, too.”

“You were still coming here after it hadn’t worked out a few times before?” Adachi raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you’re persistent.”

“Mending your heart needs time, doesn’t it?” the boy replied in a matter-of-course tone.

Surprised at his words, Adachi didn’t say anything for a few seconds but then cracked a smile again and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right, kid. It needs time.”

 

**22**

 

Those 30-minutes left until the start of the night shift were more than just enough to leisurely go up to the 6th floor and fetch a coffee from the main hallway. The vending machines looked the same on each floor of the large city station, yet this one seemed to make the tastiest coffee regardless.

The moment he took a plastic cup in his hand, Adachi felt his cell phone buzz in the back pants pocket. Holding his coffee in the right hand, he fished the phone out of the pocket with the left. At the sight of the contact name on the small top screen, his eyebrows shot up.

It took him a few seconds to deeply inhale and take the call.

“Hey, Rumi-chan,” without thinking he headed to the staircase. “How’re you doing?”

“Hey. Good, I guess,” the girl’s voice on the other end sounded a bit tired. “Are you free to talk right now?”

The moment Adachi got the call he knew that he needed some private space for it, so he was already climbing up the stairs.

“..Give me just a sec.”

Soon after making his way up, he pushed one of the two doors to the rooftop with his left elbow and stepped outside. The sun had already set and Adachi shivered a little in his blue uniform shirt. With a plastic cup of coffee still in his right hand, he leaned against a wall in the wide door alcove and exhaled.

“So? What was it?”

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

His eyebrows flew up again. This definitely wasn’t what he expected to hear and tried to formulate an honest answer to while going up the stairs. The muscles on his face relaxing into a smile, Adachi brought a warm coffee cup to his lips and took a gulp.

“Nope. I mean, I’ve got a night shift today, so I’ll be home at around 7 am and will need a short nap. But other than that – no plans at all.”

“Ah, a night shift...” the girl sounded clearly uncomfortable.

“No-no, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m used to the crazy schedule, so I’m not gonna sleep through the day tomorrow. You had something in mind?”

The girl hesitated for a few more moments.

“..I’m leaving for my hometown tomorrow. And I just wondered if you could maybe see me off, as usual.”

“..Oh.” The corners of his lips suddenly felt too heavy, but Adachi kept them curled in a smile anyway, trying to shut down the emotions that started to creep into his mind. “..Yeah, sure. Bet you’ve got your entire family lots of presents as always, haha.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi. You need more than just 4 hours of sleep.”

“I’m not used to having more than 5 lately anyway.”

“No, really, I’ll-..”

“When does your train leave?”

The girl exhaled.

“..11.45.”

“All right,” he lowered his chin in a nod, forgetting she can’t see him. “I’ll be in your area at 11.”

Silence lingered for a few moments.

“You.. sure it’s okay with you?” the voice asked at last.

Closing his eyes, Adachi admitted that he’d secretly hoped to hear this question so he could have a chance to speak up. But once he heard it, he felt the words get stuck in his throat.

“I’m okay with seeing you off in the morning, it’s really not a problem,” he forced himself to say at last, staring at his coffee cup. “It’s just that.. I wish there was a better reason for us to meet.”

“A better reason?” the girl sounded confused.

Adachi sighed heavily.

“I mean, the last time we met was about 10 days ago. And it’s the start of the Golden Week tomorrow. I know my schedule’s always a mess, but I’ll get some days off anyway.” He paused for a couple seconds. “I thought we could’ve gone out or something. So I’m.. not really happy that you’re leaving like this.”

A return pause on the other end made Adachi tighten his hand on the phone.

“You don’t want me to go to my family for the holidays?”

“Put bluntly, yes. I don’t,” he breathed out.

Another pause.

“Basically, you don’t want me to do something that _I_ want to do,” the voice was growing noticeably stern.

Adachi closed his eyes again and groaned quietly.

“Rumi-chan, not again. Please, don’t make my words sound like that, I’m just-..”

“You’re just trying to limit and control my actions,” the girl called him out in a serious tone.

He fetched another sigh.

“I’m not trying to do anything like that. I’m just telling you that I’d like to spend some time with you. Is that such a bad thing?”

“No. But asking me to do it on your terms or at a time when I clearly can’t do it – isn’t a _good_ thing.”

“..What if I say that it’s not about this time alone?” Adachi nervously ruffled the hair above his ear with the same hand he was holding the phone in. “I mean, I’ve been telling you before that I’d like us to talk and meet more often in general. Because what we have now doesn’t feel enough for me.”

“With the ‘not enough for me’ part this sounds more like a demand already,” the girl noted warily. “You know that I’m quite stressed with getting used to the job and don’t have much energy for anything else.”

“I’m getting used to my job, too. And I figured we could be some sort of.. a stable comfort to each other or something.”

The girl hesitated before she replied on an outbreath.

“..I’m still not really comfortable around you for my own reasons, you know.”

Adachi opened his mouth but didn’t find the words at once.

“..Wait, what?” he finally let out a shaky laugh. “C’mon now, Rumi-chan, we’ve been going out for half a year and known each other even longer. You had troubles with guys before, yeah, but.. it’s not like I made you feel something bad with my attitude, right?”

He heard an exhausted sigh.

“No, I just.. feel like I can’t fully be myself with you. And it’s often difficult for me to reach out to you too.”

“But you’ve been yourself all this time,” he chuckled nervously again. “And everything was just fine with you reaching out. What’s this all about, really?”

“It’s about how I feel and you can’t know the full picture of it,” the girl exhaled, and Adachi could vividly picture her shaking her head. “This is mostly my problem and I’m not blaming you for it. But when you say you want us to spend more time together, you’re selfishly asking me to feel bad more often.”

Stunned, Adachi was silent for a while before he shut his eyes and threw his head back to the wall.

“..I thought you’d call to discuss this week of silence and accuse me of not showing any initiative. But looks like instead I’ve accidentally learned a new confusing mess about myself that I can do nothing about…”

“You wanted me to call and ask why we haven’t talked for about a week?” ignoring the last part, the voice sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yes?” the corners of Adachi’s mouth shaped a twitching smile. “I know I’m kinda bad at all the relationship maintenance stuff. But isn’t this normally supposed to be.. weird?”

“It’s not weird. You’re just feeling insecure again.”

“Rumi-chan, please, who _wouldn’t_ feel insecure after hearing what you say?” he moaned quietly. “Anyone would think they’re an eye sore in this situation!”

The girl on the other end heaved a countless sigh.

“You’re not an eye sore. And the situation is: we’re both adults with our own problems, daily rhythms, and jobs. It’s not weird to live our own lives, knowing that we’ve got each other to rely on at times. I don’t see how we have to regularly get in contact without any reason just to keep that fact clear.”

“Reason, eh..” staring up at the sky, Adachi gave out a sad chuckle. “So, all these days while I was waiting for your call, hoping it will help me believe that you still care, you just didn’t have a reason to open my contact in the book?”

“I didn’t.”

He reckoned about ten seconds of a tormenting silence before sighing heavily.

“..I got your point. Sorry, the shift’s gonna start soon, so I gotta go. I’ll be in your area at 11 am tomorrow to help you get to the station.”

Without awaiting a response, he hung up and let the right hand with the phone listlessly drop down.

“Why did I let myself get into this mess again…” he muttered on an outbreath after almost a minute.

“You look like a good case of a mess yourself.”

Adachi jumped at the sudden voice and turned to his right, where it was coming from. A tall man, who’d most likely been standing near the safety railing right behind the wall all this time, was stretching out his left arm. Adachi squinted and discerned a pack of cigarettes in his hand.

“..Ah. No, thanks,” he shook his head, putting his phone in the pocket. “I don’t smoke.”

The man shrugged, put a cigarette – the second one in a row, apparently – in his mouth and clicked his lighter a few times before the end finally lit up. A small circle of light allowed Adachi to see a serious but amiable face with a stubble of a few days. The man was probably in his thirties and, since he was wearing a dark shirt with a red tie instead of a standard uniform, must have been a detective. Adachi had been working at the station for more than a month already but he’d never seen the man before.

“Relax, rookie, I’m from the countryside. Got sent here for a quarterly prefectural conference instead of my boss, who got sick. But look around when having talks like this next time.”

The detective leaned against the opposite wall of the exit door alcove and took a long drag.

“That’s one tough girl you’ve got there, from the sound of it.”

Adachi raised his right hand with the plastic cup and took a gulp of the cold coffee just to stall for time and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling for a few seconds.

“..She’s a psychologist and has been with a few difficult guys before me. I know where her quirks and defensiveness come from and I’m used to bend to them a little,” he sighed. “It’s just that I feel like making concessions has been a one-sided thing lately.”

“You have chats like this often?”

Adachi hesitated for a while, unsure whether he should open up to a complete stranger. But something about the man gave him a soothing, forthcoming, and even somewhat familiar feeling that he couldn’t quite explain. Although, he might as well have simply made it all up just to let himself talk.

“We had the first one a few months ago, when I noticed a growing distance,” he answered at last. “Since then, it usually starts with me trying to figure out if we can fix this – and ends with me learning something new and unpleasant. I try to ignore this something at first, because it’s nothing I can change, but it gets to me after a few days. And makes me feel even worse.”

“Why have these talks at all then,” the man raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how this works for you two.”

Shutting his eyes, Adachi chuckled.

“I hoped that as we talk, I’d understand what I do wrong or see that everything wasn’t as bad as it seemed to me. But I keep hearing things that steadily make the whole thing empty and meaningless in my head.”

He paused to take another sip of his cold and bitter drink.

“Our chats used to be good and entertaining. She had this vigor that she willingly shared with me. I was a bit passive maybe, ‘cause she called or texted first more often than I did. I made sure to show that I enjoyed her company, but that probably wasn’t enough,” he smiled wryly. “I miss spending time with her, but I’m not sure how to bring it all back.”

“What about the basic ‘how are you’ chats?” the man shrugged as he ashed the cigarette. “They may not be entertaining, but it’s always a good start.”

With a sad smile, Adachi shook his head.

“I don’t mind them, but she says she dislikes ‘small talks’ and has enough of them with colleagues.”

“It’s only a ‘small talk’ if you get the ‘how are you’ from someone you don’t trust or address it to someone you don’t truly care about,” his companion pointed out.

Adachi pursed his lips and shifted his eyes to the side, looking at the dark sky above the railing.

“Maybe that’s why this applies to me, huh..”

The man didn’t say anything and Adachi, still looking aside, only heard him exhale tobacco smoke every now and then.

“..From what you’ve happened to hear, do I really sound like some insecure and unstable kid, who’s just selfishly begging for attention?” Adachi suddenly heard himself ask.

The detective took his time to breathe out another puff of smoke.

“At the very least, you sound like an idiot who’s stubbornly struggling for a relationship that no longer works. And by ‘work’ I mean involves two people who have equal needs and don’t hurt each other.”

A rueful smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Adachi scratched the back of his head.

“I’ve never been good with people, so I’m scared to let this bond go. It’s hard to be with a girl, who unwillingly makes you hurt, but it’s also hard to go back to being on your own,” he shrugged. “It’s not like I often meet someone who’s so smart, cute, and feels good around me, too. At least I thought she felt that way…” Adachi fetched a sigh. “I just wish we could find a way to get back to where we-...”

He shuddered at the feeling of a buzzing phone. Dread and hope mixed in his chest, he hastily took the cell out of the pocket and opened it. Once he saw a service message, Adachi shut his eyes and sighed heavily again, realizing he’d reflexively held his breath.

“You always react to your own phone like that?” the detective furrowed his brow.

Somewhat abashed, Adachi tightened the grip on his phone, closed it, and put it back in the pocket. He didn’t reply and the awkward pause lingered for a few moments.

“..Can’t say _I_ ’m good with people, y’know,” the man suddenly spoke up and looked aside as well. “I live in a town where everyone knows each other, but I’m barely acquainted with anyone. Never had a partner at work and never talk to my colleagues if it’s not about the job in general.”

“But you’re talking to me right now,” Adachi said with a weak smile, and the man laughed.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s the conference that bored me stiff or your pathetic self that I couldn’t just ignore. Anyway, you happen to be a weird exception.”

Adachi chuckled weakly and fixed his eyes on the plastic cup.

“My point is: I’m not the most outgoing man alive, but I’ve still got a dear wife. No idea what she found in me, but I’m grateful to her for her care,” the man smiled fondly. “Sometimes it just takes to find the right person. And there’s no need to make ‘the right one’ out of the one who isn’t. You’re just making it worse for you both.”

With a quiet chuckle, Adachi shook his head.

“Marriage is something I prefer not to even think about. And since this,” he pat his pocket with the cell phone in it, “is all I ever have in terms of relationships, no matter what I do, I guess it’s just me and my head at fault all the time.”

“Maybe,” the man shrugged. “But maybe no one has to be at fault at all, ‘cause sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t,” he furrowed his brow again. “And when it doesn’t, you either teach every cell of your body to pretend everything’s alright – if that’s what you want – or quit and move on.”

Adachi had nothing to say to that.

A few moments later he heard the desperate lighter clicks again and looked up.

“You got a lighter?” the detective asked.

“I don’t smoke,” Adachi reminded him.

“That’s not a reason not to carry one just in case a smoking stranger needs it,” the man chuckled and, after he gave up on his lighter, gestured at the plastic cup in Adachi’s hand. “Is the coffee here any good?”

“In the vending machine on the lower floor, to the right of the staircase, yeah.”

“Gonna have it then,” the man pushed away from the wall and opened the door. “And you’d better get back to work, rookie. That kind of stress pays your bills at least, doesn’t it?”

Adachi watched the door behind the stranger close and remained in the same spot for a few more minutes. Then he sighed, pushed away from the wall too and opened the door to the stairs.

On his way down, he checked the phone again – the irritating habit of the past few weeks – and then shut it off for the night, wishing he could do the same with his own mind.

 

**26**

 

Police officers don’t have to perform maintenance on their assigned firearms, but Adachi had an unregistered modified gun that he needed to take care of on his own. Even 3 years after he’d completed this private project, he was still proud of the results. He’d splurged on a high-quality model revolver and then spent a couple months procuring those small details necessary for making the toy real.

Replacing the cylinder and the extractor had seemed to be enough at first, but when he’d done that, the whole trigger mechanism had fallen apart because of the difference in the sizes of the real and model cylinder lifters. It’d taken him about 3 more months to obtain the genuine parts and get the whole thing working. And it had still been almost a year earlier than the day he was allowed to carry a gun on the job.

With all the tools for maintenance laid out on the desk, Adachi was patiently removing the grip pins on his custom gun when the landline telephone in the entry hall of his apartment rang. He didn’t react to the sound at all, not with a single muscle of his face, and proceeded to unlatch the cylinder.

The phone kept ringing until it switched to the message recording and the trilling sound got replaced by a woman’s voice.

“Hi, it’s me, Kiko. Guess leaving a message here is better than nothing,” clearly disappointed, the girl sighed, while Adachi, having laid the detached cylinder and the ejector aside, was calmly looking for a fitting screwdriver.

“I couldn’t reach your cell phone for a few days, so I tried my luck with a landline but,” she chuckled sadly, “Still no dice, hah..”

He removed one screw in the side plate, carefully put it on the black mat, and went for the next one.

“It’s not like it’s anything urgent. It just.. feels like the last time you and I talked was a whole while ago.”

“Last week,” Adachi muttered emotionlessly and took the second screw out of the side plate.

“So I’m simply.. worried if you’re all right. I know your work’s tough and you’re trying hard for a promotion. And there’s still that old case you’re dealing with voluntarily… But all that only gives me more reasons to feel uneasy.”

After laying the last screw aside, Adachi put the screwdriver down and started to carefully pry the revolver’s plate up.

“I know you’re convinced that career is important. I guess all guys are like this. And it’s great but.. there are other things to enjoy in life, too.”

“Other things never work out for me,” he muttered again and reached for a flat screwdriver this time. “I’m not going back to try my dumb luck just to face this fact once more.”

“I remember you mentioning that you’re not good at building relationships and that you’re certain that bonds are only there to hurt,” the gentle voice went on after a short pause, as if it actually heard the reply to the previous line. “I can’t change your mind on this, because that’s the sort of thing everyone comes to through their own experience. And yours must have been quite sad.”

Adachi just chuckled while trying to take out a pin behind the trigger.

“Still, I.. believe that distancing yourself from the others is even sadder, Tohru-kun,” the girl added. “It’s hard to be optimistic about the things you’ve always had bad luck with, but trying to have an open mind and not fretting over what’s going to happen in the future may be not such a bad idea, don’t you think?”

“..What do you know about this stuff,” he exhaled, still struggling with the pin.

“No one can ever tell what this or that choice can lead to, but choosing to not make any decisions at all is just.. giving up on life. You’re cutting off everything that can hurt you and everything that can make you happy, too.”

After he finally removed the pin, Adachi slid the rebound slide, detached the hammer from his revolver, and laid the parts on the mat.

“Also.. um.. people often tell me that there can be a little too much of me at times. And I guess for someone like you, this might feel like _way_ too much,” she laughed weakly and then sighed. “If you need space – please, just tell me. I’ve never been with guys like you before, so I’m not sure if I come off as irritating. My load of calls and texts is just the only way I know to express my interest and affection.”

Leaning his left elbow against the desk, Adachi was staring blankly at the disassembled gun, the voice from the hall ringing in his head.

“I’m just.. really glad you opened up to me, you know. It’ll sound stupid, but I felt.. kind of special,” the girl let out a soft laugh. “And because of this it hurts even more to see you tune out. That’s why I’m saying all this. Because I really care about you.”

Groaning, Adachi lifted his right hand and buried his face in it.

“Please, just stop talking already…”

“I know there’s little I can do if you decide you’d be better off alone. But I just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t want to break up with you.”

“..Stop,” he breathed out, slowly covering his face with the other hand. 

“I wouldn’t want to lose you..”

“..Stop, stop, stop, st-..”

“..and I’d be happy if you could hope for the better and gave us a chance.”

“Just please, stop saying all these things!” he begged out loud after he shut his eyes tight and slammed both palms on the desk.

Some of the springs and screws fell down on the floor and started to roll in different directions, giving out a quiet metallic sound. Adachi, with his eyes still shut, didn’t react to it at all.

“I’ll be waiting to hear back from you,” unaware of the reaction her words had just elicited, the girl said in the same gentle voice. “Please, don’t push yourself too hard. And take care.”

The telephone gave out a short tone, signaling the end of the recording – and the whole apartment sank into silence.

A few minutes later, Adachi limply stooped over the desk.

“Why the hell is this even happening,” he muttered, folding his arms on the desk and looking down at the remaining revolver parts from those few inches his face was above. “How many more times do I need to go down this road before I learn to keep away from it for good…”

Adachi leaned both elbows against the desk again and drew the hands back to his face.

“Why do you worry? Why do you care? Why are you trying so hard to give me comfort? Seriously, just _who asked_ you to do _any_ of it?”

Almost digging his fingers into the skin on the forehead, he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I only afforded myself to be completely honest with you a few times – and you already talk like you know and understand me. And the worst thing is that it feels like you _really_ do and I start to believe in it…”

He closed his eyes again and let his voice go back up.

“Hell, this was just a shallow bond that would’ve never hurt anyone. You were a good-looking well-cooking girl, who paid attention to me for some reason, and were never supposed to be more than that.” He gritted his teeth and pressed his palms tighter to his face. “You were never supposed to make me _feel_ anything for you, damn it!”

After slowly lowering his hands, Adachi took a few breaths in an attempt to regain control over himself. But it was steadily and hopelessly slipping away from him.

“Now I won’t want it all to fall apart. Won’t want you to lose interest and stop caring,” he was balling his hands into fists while emptily staring at the disassembled revolver. “But I won’t be enough again. There’ll be those hurt and talks again. We’ll drift apart _again_ , and I don’t know how to break this cursed pattern because I have _no fucking idea what I’m always. doing. wrong!!_ ”

In a fit of anger, he banged both fists on the table and all the revolver parts jumped up with a rumbling sound.

After that, the apartment went back to being completely silent. Adachi didn’t move an inch for a few minutes, the rage in him slowly transforming into despair.

“..Maybe I’m just feeling things wrong all the time,” he murmured, the voice steeped in exhaustion and pain. “But I can’t change something like that, can I?..”

The empty room didn’t answer and let his mind wander in the grim thoughts for a while.

Once he heaved a heavy sigh, Adachi slowly turned his face away from the desk surface and fixed his eyes on the flickering red light on the phone in the dark hallway. After spending about ten minutes mindlessly staring at the light, he got up from his chair and headed to it.

He neared the phone, pushed the voice mail button, and leaned against the nearest wall.

 _“-…You’re cutting off everything that can hurt you and everything that can make you happy, too…”_ – the replaying message said again and Adachi closed his eyes.

“What’s even the point of feeling this happiness if you want to erase it from your memory when it’s all over,” he groaned. “Why do all people love this ‘bonds’ stuff so much when all it does is hurt like hell?..”

_“-..If you need space – please, just tell me.”_

“ ‘Please, keep your flattering starter-pack of care for me to yourself, because I’ll get used to it’ or something?” Adachi snickered quietly and looked aside. “Yeah, might be not such a bad idea to ask for this right now. I won’t have to feel the difference a few months later on then, right?..”

_“-..really care about you..-”_

_“-..wouldn’t want to loose you..-”_

_“-..hope for the better and give us a chance..-”_

He shut his eyes and continued to stand still even after the recording stopped playing.

“..I needed this week alone to cool down and get my walls up,” Adachi’s lips shaped a rueful smile. “But you make one single call, say a few lines – and level these walls to the ground.”

The voice and the words from the message were reverberating in his head, filling him with hope and trust that he had vowed to never let inside his heart and mind again.

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

“If I end this now, I’ll just make it into ‘the one bond that could’ve actually worked but I gave up on it without trying,” Adachi muttered in a tired voice. “So it’s ‘regret’ either way, huh? Talk about the freedom of choice…”

He slowly lowered his gaze back to the telephone and continued to silently stare at it for fifteen minutes straight.

After fetching a tired sigh, Adachi finally pushed away from the wall and took a cell phone out of his pants pocket. His fingers hovered over the buttons for a few seconds before in the end they dialed the number of a recently missed call.

“..Kiko-chan? Hey, I just got home and.. uh..” Adachi ruffled his hair with the left hand. “Sorry for making you feel like this. It was just a crazy week at work, nothing that serious. You aren’t ‘too much’, ‘irritating’ or anything, really.” He turned around and headed back to his room. “… No-no, don’t worry, it was a nice message. Thanks for.. saying all that.”

Adachi failed to keep his lips from curling up as he heard the girl’s voice. After nearing his desk, he looked at the parts of the disassembled revolver on it.

“I’ve got some stuff I need to finish, but.. how about a dinner out tonight at about 8? Yeah, 8:30 works for me. Where’d you wanna go?”

***

“A.. tiny town on the outskirts?”

“Yeah. Some ‘Yaso Inaba’. The transfer’s in two months, on March 23rd,” Adachi replied in a level tone, passing by what looked like the local only river.

He perfectly knew the answers to the questions he didn’t even see a point to ask, but _had_ to do it in order to make things clear. That’s why he made the call, having gone two weeks down in his call history to find the number.

“God, that’s terrible. Are you all right?”

Adachi smiled. He hadn’t been ‘all right’ since November, when the whole mess at work started, but it almost felt like the norm to him already. Besides, discussing how he felt seemed meaningless to him at that point anyway.

“I’m okay.”

“Is it all because of that old case you were dealing with?”

“Sorta.”

The girl sighed.

“Look, I've.. had my hands full with the expo since late autumn. But I've been worried about you this whole time.”

“Yeah,” he smiled again. “Thanks.”

“I mean, I knew I couldn’t have helped you in any way,” she added. “I would’ve loved to. But even if we’d talked about it, it wouldn’t have changed anything. And.. you know how I don’t like to feel useless from discussing the same problem over and over and not finding a solution. So I just-..”

“Let me be,” Adachi finished for her on an outbreath.

“I simply didn’t want to disturb or annoy you by saying the same dumb stuff without actually helping you.”

The words made him stop walking. He slowly inhaled and looked up at the grey winter morning sky.

“Did I ever make you feel that way, Kiko-chan?” Adachi asked, letting out a small cloud of condensed breath into the air. “Like you’re disturbing, annoying, dumb or useless?”

“..No,” she replied after a short pause. “But I just.. decided to give you some space.”

“You used to ask me if I needed this space, you know,” he chuckled with his eyes closed. “And I never said I did. Just like I never said I needed you to solve my problems. I only wanted you to just be there, that’s all,” Adachi fetched a sigh. “But it doesn’t matter. The reason I’m calling is.. I’m gonna look for the place to rent here right now.”

He had to wait for a response for quite a while.

“I’m.. not really sure what you want me to say?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure either,” after giving out a short laugh, Adachi lowered his head and looked around. “This place here is definitely not expo-friendly, hah.”

The lingering silence was more than simply uncomfortable.

“As far as I remember, long-distance stuff’s not your style, right?” he asked at last, getting to the point.

“..Yeah,” the voice murmured. “It may be just me, but.. it never worked well. Sorry.”

Adachi put on a smile and closed his eyes again.

“We’re breaking up then?”

He already knew the answer simply because it was the only logical outcome of their stalemate. He’d had enough time to convince himself that it was what he needed and wanted, too. Yet those moments he spent waiting for a reply made him feel jittery anyway.

“..I guess?” the girl finally sighed. “To be honest, I don’t see how we can make this work from now on…”

Adachi opened his eyes and fixed them on a meaningless point far away ahead.

“Then looks like it’s a goodbye, Kiko-chan. Those 5 months were nice. Thanks for them.”

He wasn’t sure what exactly he hoped to hear as he was waiting for another long pause to end.

“Thank you too, Tohru-kun,” the girl said. “I’m really sorry things turned out like this. And.. let’s hope it’ll work out for you at the new place. Take care, okay?”

Adachi couldn’t stifle a shaky laugh.

“Yeah, _hope_. That one thing you asked me to rely on once. When you told me that by hiding from hurt I was missing out on happiness, assured me you didn’t want us to break up, and said you wished we could have a chance. Remember?”

Hearing silence in return, Adachi realized that he was just making things awkward for no reason.

He slammed his eyes shut again and breathed out.

“..Nevermind. Take care, too. Goodbye.”

He hung up but remained standing still with his phone opened, tightening his fingers on it and desperately trying to take control of the surge of the emotions he didn’t know he still had.

“’Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t’, huh?” he muttered through gritted teeth. “It just _never_ works for me _at all_. That’s it.”

“..Did your phone break?”

At the sound of someone’s voice, Adachi snapped out of it and shifted his eyes from the dark screen to the right. And then down, to a small schoolgirl with tiny twin tails and a pink backpack.

“Ah. Er. No,” with a forced laugh, he ruffled his hair and put his phone in the pocket of the light black unbuttoned coat he was wearing. “I just had to say goodbye to someone, who's important to me, and needed to process this. So I zoned out a little.”

The girl bit her lip and lowered her eyes to the ground.

“Oh. Sorry. This must have been hard...”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Adachi smiled and waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Sometimes it hurts so much to stay that it’s easier to leave. I’m used to this kind of thing already.”

His words seemed to have saddened the little girl even more and he scratched his head in an attempt to come up with some better phrasing.

“..I mean.. Saying goodbye is important, in a way.”

With the same pensive eyes, the girl softly nodded.

“Yeah, I know that. Because a person has brought something into your life and you need to thank them for it before you let them go.”

The solemn line raised Adachi’s eyebrows.

“That’s what my dad said once,” she clarified.

“Well.. your dad wasn’t wrong,” he agreed, offering a soft smile. “Goodbyes are important because of this too.”

“Why else can they be important?” the girl blinked.

Adachi ruffled his hair again and stared into the distance.

“Because only after you say it you can close the door behind this person in your mind, forget about the hurt you felt, and.. look into the future, I guess,” he cracked a smile, not really believing in half of his words. “No matter how empty, boring, and pointless this future may seem.”

The girl frowned a little and pouted.

“I don’t want to forget anything,” she said and then dropped her eyes and lowered her voice. “It’s not that I even remember much…”

A sudden gust of the cold January wind made Adachi shiver and adjust the grey scarf on his neck.

“You‘re not from Inaba?” the girl pointed at Adachi’s coat. “This is too light for a winter here.”

“Y-yeah, it sure is,” he laughed as he rubbed his freezing hands together and tried to warm them with his breath. “I’m moving here in spring, so I’m looking for a place now. And for a local police station, too.”

The girl’s eyes finally lit up.

“I know where the station is! My dad works there,” she said proudly. “I can tell you how to get to it if you want.”

Adachi snickered and bent a little, propping his hands against his knees.

“Well, guess my luck’s not always that bad. I’m all ears, little miss.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying he had justifiable reasons for any of the canon stuff. I'm just saying one can come to loathe human bonds the way he does only after desperately trying and painfully failing to build them properly.
> 
> Also, I don't think he's a victim/martyr in any of the situations here (and I tried to show that there isn't really 'right' or 'wrong', just different ways different people feel). But I guess he sees himself as one in the end, b/c that's just how he chooses to cope.


End file.
